"I—" Asami heard a door open in the direction of the bedrooms, then close again quietly. She closed her mouth, feeling dazed. Saved by the bell, she thought. She didn't know exactly what she had been about to say, and was grateful for more time to think.
Iroh dropped his hands and quickly took a step back. He ran a hand through his hair, which Asami had noticed he seemed to do whenever he was stressed. A moment later, Master Katara appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. She carried a shallow wooden basin in both wizened hands. It was filled with water that Asami assumed she'd used in healing Tonraq. The water was faintly pink.
Katara stopped and looked up at Iroh, then at Asami herself. Iroh flushed and shifted his weight, moving a few inches further from her.
"Oh please, Iroh," the old woman said, and shook her head. She started walking again, carrying her basin of healing water towards the sink. "You can move away from her all you want, but unless you've started wearing lipstick it isn't going to save you. I may be old, but there's nothing wrong with my eyes." She placed the basin carefully in the sink, then turned to face them. "And even if there were, your face is so red now I bet even Toph Beifong could see you blush." Asami thought she had a point. At the mention of the lipstick, Iroh's face had gone completely scarlet. He rubbed at his lips with the back of one hand, then ran it through his hair again. It was starting to stick up from all the attention. Katara smiled, then turned around and began to wash. She bent the water back and forth over the sides of the bowl and slowly it cleared.
"Honestly, Iroh, you're as bad a liar as Zuko," she said over her shoulder. "The fact that the both of you managed to carry out secret missions is beyond me. But then again, life is a mystery."
Asami glanced at Iroh. He was so red now it was almost comical. He met her eyes briefly, swallowed hard, and looked at the floor. "Master Katara," he said, a little hoarsely, and bowed slightly to the old woman's back. Then he turned and left the kitchen in the direction Katara had come from.
"I'm glad your leg is feeling better!" Katara called, raising her voice slightly as Iroh disappeared down the hall. Although Asami couldn't see her face, the smile in her voice was unmistakable. She faintly heard a door open and close again.
"That boy," Katara said, turning to Asami. She gave a low chuckle and shook her head. "I've known him all his life. It's so easy to get under his skin, it's almost not worth doing." She started drying the basin with a faded blue cloth, and her smile dimmed. "He's just so serious. Poor thing thinks everything he does has to be perfect or the world will break. Always been like that." Katara turned to put the basin down on the counter and dried her hands. "The rest of the family, oof—" she made a chuffing noise. "Doofuses, the lot of them. Lovely, brilliant, loyal, and some of my dearest friends, but doofuses all the same. Him though." She nodded her head in the direction Iroh had gone. "He might be called Iroh, but he's the only one that took after Ozai."
Now there was a thought.
"How is Chief Tonraq?" Asami asked, suddenly remembering where Katara had come from. She'd been so caught off guard, first by Iroh's kiss and then the old woman's banter, that she hadn't thought to ask after him yet. "Will he be all right?"
"He's banged up a bit, but he'll live," Katara said. "I dare say I've seen worse. Troublemakers, my kids, the lot of them. I used to think healing was boring, but they always managed to keep me on my toes. I thank the spirits now that I bothered to learn it. And thank you for asking, Miss Sato. Tonraq would be a sight worse off if you hadn't flown him here so soon."
Evidently finished with the washing up, Katara walked to the small table in the corner. She pulled out one of the dark wooden chairs and eased into it slowly. Then she gestured to the one next to her. "Mind some advice from an old woman? I'll have to give it sitting, though."
"Of course not," said Asami, and joined her at the table. She wasn't sure where this was going, but she hadn't gotten much in the way of motherly advice growing up. A part of her longed to fill that void however she could.
"I've seen my share of end-of-the-world kisses," said the old master. Asami felt herself blush. "It's okay, child! It's perfectly normal. I even had a few myself." Katara smiled at her reassuringly. "Sometimes, they mean something. They can force out a feeling that's been bubbling under the surface. Make you acknowledge it openly, maybe even act on it. Aang and I were like that, you know." Asami nodded. That made sense. She knew that Katara and Avatar Aang had gotten together shortly after they defeated Firelord Ozai. "And sometimes," Katara said, "they don't mean anything at all. Just a stress response, if you will. An expression of one's desire to feel alive, to cling to something unquestioningly vital, when death feels near."
Asami nodded again. She was still sorting out her feelings about Iroh, and the old woman's words resonated. She was clearly attracted to him, in a physical sense. She'd always thought him handsome, and all the more so since getting to know him better. Kissing him had been electric, and her whole body had responded with obvious enthusiasm. And over their travels he'd also become what she now realized was a close friend. If Asami hadn't exactly considered what it might be like for her and Iroh to be more than just friends, it was more that she hadn't consciously put the two ideas together yet.
But in truth, she had no idea what the kiss meant for either of them. The way he had looked at her right before, the intensity of his gaze, was like nothing she'd ever experienced. She knew that she was pretty, and was used to men noticing her. But Iroh had looked at her like a starving man might look at a bison steak. Even thinking about it, remembering the fire in his bronze eyes, made her start to feel warm. Yet if there was ever a time for a stress response, it was now, and it's not like Katara's was brimming with young women to choose from. She could simply have been the only steak on offer.
It wouldn't be the first time.
"Neither of those things is wrong," Katara continued, pulling Asami out of her thoughts. "But sometimes, one person thinks it's one thing, and the other thinks it's another. And there's where you get your problems. If it really is the end of the world, well, that's no issue. But I spent 59 years married to the Avatar, dealing with world-ending crises right and left, and we stopped 'em every time. And each time we did, suddenly all those end-of-the-world kisses wound up needing a reckoning folks hadn't figured on. Sometimes it was good, but more often it wasn't." She chuckled. "So, best bet on the world and figure out which one it is, eh?"
The old woman put her hand gently on Asami's arm, her smile fading. "I know I don't know you all that well, Miss Sato," she said. "But I like you. You've got grit, which is more than I can say for most, and you care about doing right by others. You wouldn't be here now if you didn't. But like I said, I've known Iroh his whole life. He might not show it much, but inside he's all fire." Katara closed her eyes and gently shook her head. "He doesn't do things by half, Miss Sato. Not ever. You'd best keep that in mind."
She patted Asami's arm again. "Ok. Enough of that now. You're a big girl, you'll figure it out." Suddenly, Katara grinned. Her blue eyes were wide and excited. "So, about all this world-ending blabbity blah. You two weren't just going to sit down and take it, were you?"